


Day 2—"OMG, so drunk..."

by protectignisscientia



Series: Gladnis Week 2017 [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, also gladio being so done with ignis, i didn't wanna do alcohol drunk, ignis is high as a kite, it's rated mature because gladio's nineteen and his head lives in the gutter, or at least his bad habits that get him sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 19:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12918921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protectignisscientia/pseuds/protectignisscientia
Summary: Ignis comes down with a nasty cold and Gladio comes down with a case of “Ignis is way too cute when he’s high as a kite on prescription-grade medicine.”





	Day 2—"OMG, so drunk..."

**Author's Note:**

> Ages:  
> Gladio - 19  
> Ignis - 18

 

Gladio wanted to be mad. He wanted to be mad at everyone who had given Ignis something more to do regardless of how much the advisor-in-training already had on his plate. He wanted to be mad at Ignis for his inability to say “no” for his own sake. Most of all, he wanted to be mad at himself for somehow not noticing the way his boyfriend was steadily running himself into the ground, rendering his already-flimsy constitution even more vulnerable to the myriad of bugs floating around the Citadel despite the cleaning staff’s best efforts to keep it, y’know, clean.

But Astrals forgive him, Gladio couldn’t be mad when prescription-grade medicine had rendered Ignis so freaking adorable.

Just like pretty much any other time Gladio caught wind of Ignis hiding a problem from him, the Shield had caught wind of his boyfriend’s illness as they passed each other in the Citadel halls. The typical shoulder smack he always greeted Ignis with had been answered by a fit of coughs that the younger man had apparently been fighting back all morning. It stopped Ignis right in his tracks, and Ignis stopping right in his tracks stopped Gladio right in his own. Ignis didn’t stop for anything when he was on the way to a meeting, not if he could help it.

Cue Gladio sweeping his ailing love up in his arms while Ignis continued to cough so violently the Shield was sure he’d see a chunk of lung any second now. He didn’t even waste time ducking into one of their offices; he knew this was beyond either of them to fix. No, he had gone straight to his car, placed Ignis gingerly in the passenger seat, buckled him in, then dropped himself into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He would have forgone his own seatbelt to save time if not for his boyfriend’s squeaky plea driving a dagger into his heart and forcing a sigh from him as he complied with the precious idiot’s request.

Then it had been off to the clinic where, thank the Six, the doctor had reassured Gladio that it was just a nasty cold virus, along with a couple deficiencies that didn’t explain Ignis’s symptoms but sure didn’t help anything. She had seen several of the Citadel staff come in with it over the past couple of weeks and had thought the darn thing had died out. Gladio knew immediately that it had, but Ignis always took longer to recover from illnesses and was also extremely good at flying under the radar. He’d probably been this bad for days, doing everything he could to avoid spreading his germs and being caught overexerting himself by Gladio.

Frankly, Ignis should have known better. Gladio always caught him.

The doctor had written Ignis a handful of prescriptions and wished Gladio luck with keeping the notoriously driven advisor-in-training in bed and quiet until the virus ran its course, and Gladio had chuckled out his deepest thanks for her help as he carried Ignis off. He’d gotten the prescriptions filled, waiting until they were both in his car before scowling at the number of them and at the familiarity of a couple. Iron, Vitamin D and a sleep aid. Again. Gladio had thought Ignis had gotten his shit together with his eating and sleeping habits with the Shield’s help, dammit.

Gladio made his way to his apartment, calling his father on the in-car phone as he gruffly silenced Ignis’s hoarse protests with a “Save your throat for all the tea and soup Imma force down it, Specs.” He spent the rest of the drive encouraging Ignis to rest by ignoring him and focusing instead on the road and on his conversation with the elder Shield. Clarus would see to it that all of Ignis’s obligations would be taken care of until the dear man was well again.

Gladio’s first priority upon reaching his apartment was to get Ignis out of his stiff suit, into a t-shirt and pants that were far too big for him, and finally into bed under several blankets and against a mound of soft pillows. Once that had all been taken care of, Gladio had shot his boyfriend a warning look and a firm order (“Stay put. Not a peep.”) before hurrying off to the kitchen to get a kettle of water heating up. Or two. Or as many damn kettles as he had burners on his stove, because he needed hot water for so many things right now. Steeping tea, diluting broth so it didn’t upset Ignis’s stomach, and dampening a few washcloths were all things requiring hot water.

Ten or so minutes later, Gladio returned to Ignis with a tray carrying a cup of Ignis’s favorite tea, some chickatrice broth, and a small for Ignis but ridiculous for anyone else pile of pills. He’d helped Ignis take said pills and drink some of said tea and broth, then climbed into bed next to Ignis and picked up his current reading material from the nightstand as he told his overtaxed boyfriend to get some sleep.

Roughly half an hour passed in relative silence, the only disturbances being Gladio quietly turning the pages of his book, Ignis not so quietly dissolving into coughing fits, and Gladio (once again) quietly shushing Ignis as he rubbed the smaller man’s shoulder gently. Then, the silence was broken by a pleasant sound rendered just a bit startling by how poorly it fit the mood of the room. That sound was a giggle emanating from Ignis’s mouth, and Gladio’s eyebrows jumped up his forehead as his amber eyes widened and stared straight forward. Why was Ignis giggling?

“Why’re you giggling?”

Ignis giggled a little louder, the extra effort irritating a sharp cough from him that did nothing to diminish his lopsided, dopey grin. “Was thinkin’ about my snek.”

“...Your snek.” Gladio’s brow furrowed and his mouth drew into a tight line as he closed his book and returned it to the nightstand. “Ignis, you don’t have a snake.”

“SNEK,” Ignis corrected in a tone that still managed to be stern despite being cracked into a million tiny pieces, “and yes I do.” He reached his right hand up to grab the collar of his shirt, yanking it much farther down than strictly necessary to expose the head of his snake tattoo, which rested upon his right collarbone. “See?”

Gladio just stared at it in silence for half a minute, then snorted and shook his head as he pet his boyfriend’s tawny hair. “Right. How could I forget?”

“Iunno…” Ignis let his hand flop back down on the bed as he heaved a ragged sigh, eyes closing. His face remained pinched in his struggle to stay awake for a moment, then that crooked smile that was way too cute to be allowed when it was borne of drugs Ignis shouldn’t have needed returned. Also the giggle. That bubbled up again too.

“What now?” Gladio asked, unable to prevent amusement from seeping into his otherwise exasperated tone. “You’re supposed to be sleeping, you dork.”

“I was just thinking…” Vivid green eyes opened and stared straight forward, all expression leaving Ignis’s face as he momentarily lost ground in the battle against narcotics. Ignis snorted suddenly, shoulders curling inwards as he followed it up with still more giggles. “I shoulda had ‘im add the tongue!”

Okay, now Gladio couldn’t help but smile too. Also quirk an eyebrow, but the smile was more important. “And why’s that?”

“Snek tongues are so thippy!”

“...Thippy?”

“Thhhhhip,” Ignis demonstrated, allowing the tip of his tongue to extend past his lips. “Thip. Thip. Thip.”

Gladio was immediately conflicted. Innocent as that tongue was being right now, that tongue had done some pretty freaking naughty things to him in the not so distant past and would continue to do those things to him in the not so distant future. Like all over his body. And Gladio’s tongue had done and would do the same things to Ignis. All over his body, and more frequently than Ignis’s tongue had done and would do to him. All. Over. His. Body.

Gladio was nineteen. He couldn’t handle this shit. But he had to, because Ignis was in no shape for his shenanigans, so the Shield let out a flustered grumble of a sigh as he picked his book back up and opened it to the page he’d left off on. “...Go back to sleep, pet.”

Ignis giggled. Again. “Yessirrrrrrrr…”

The silence scarcely lasted five minutes before that freaking giggle broke it again. Gladio heaved an almighty sigh. “What now?”

The giggles kicked up as Ignis answered. “G-G-Goodyolus Amit-tiddya!”

Astrals help him. Gladio rolled his eyes and ruffled Ignis’s hair gently. “Very funny, babe. Now sleep.”

“M’okaaaaaaay…”

Again, the silence scarcely lasted five minutes, but this time it wasn’t broken by a giggle. “Gladiooooo…”

Another sigh. “Igniiiiiiiis…”

“Love youuuuu…”

Goodbye, Gladio’s entire stinking heart. It was a puddle in his chest. Rest in puddle. “I love you too, Iggy,” he murmured warmly, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s thin shoulders and pulling him closer. He planted a kiss to the top of Ignis’s head. “But you need to sleep now. Please.”

“Tell me a story?”

“Ignis–”

“Pleeeeeease?”

How did Gladio still have enough air left for sighs? Moot point. He did, and so he sighed again. “Once upon a time there was an advisor-in-training who pushed himself too hard, got sick and then refused to go to sleep despite his boyfriend begging him to. The end. Now sleep.”

“...That was a lame story.”

“You’re a lame doofus.”

“You’re a lame–”

“Sleep.”

“That’s–”

“IGNIS.”

It was Ignis’s turn to sigh as he sagged heavily against Gladio’s side. He wanted to argue, but frankly he didn’t have the strength to do anything but listen to the dear man who was always there to look after him. “Fine…”

“Thank you,” Gladio cooed, idly carding his fingers through Ignis’s hair as the advisor-in-training finally allowed sleep to claim him. And thank the Six, Ignis would remain asleep for several hours before the meds wore off and he was woken up by another violent fit of coughs. Gladio would be right there with tea, soup, and the drugs that made Gladio’s job easier while also making it harder. It was worth it, though, because it all helped Ignis feel better, and that’s all Gladio wanted at the end of the day.

Gladio just wanted Ignis to feel safe, happy, and well-cared for, and he was honored to be the guy to do that for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I love italics. I hate what AO3 did to the italicized words in my Google Doc when I copy/pasted Day 1 fic over here. No italics this time.


End file.
